Over dinner
by Cranberriez
Summary: a funny little one that came from a real life experience... about the yummy Matthew Bellamy staying over for dinner ;D enjoy xxx


"Gravy please."

I passed the gravy across to my brother, trying not to spill any from the full-to-the brim jug.

"_Harriet..._" My mum scolded when I completely failed.

I glanced at Matthew, who was sitting opposite to me. He had a very small smirk on his face and I could tell that he was inwardly laughing at me, just too polite to show it in front of my family. This was the first time I'd invited him 'round to meet my family, and to be honest, I was a little nervous. I hoped to God they wouldn't embarrass me in front of my boyfriend...

"Sorry." I mumbled, quickly getting up and fetching some tissues to wipe up the mess. At a glance I could see Matthew's smile growing bigger as he expertly poured himself some gravy without spilling a drop. I scowled at him as I sat back down.

"Joe, wait until everyone's finished before you start eating." My Dad said as my brother Joe lifted a forkful of chicken to his mouth. He reluctantly lowered it again as I finished serving myself, the faintest hint of red creeping into my cheeks as I realised everyone was waiting for me. I shouldn't have been so nervous- it was only my family and Matthew, both of whom

I'd known for _ages_. However, it seemed that putting the two together made some kind of complication that prevented me from being relaxed.

Once I was finished serving myself, I put the spoon back in the bowl and glanced at my Dad to see whether we were _allowed_ to start eating yet. It was a stupid rule, but it had been the way Dad had been brought up, so he deemed it right that we should follow the same rules. However, he failed to see the distinctive point that his childhood and ours were significantly _far apart _in time, a fact that I wished I could remind him of without being sent to my room for 'disrespect'.

I glanced at Matthew as I lifted my first mouthful to my mouth, and he seemed to be exactly mirroring my movements. We both smiled at each other, and that movement resulted in him looking incredibly sexy while he swallowed his food, and me dribbling gravy down my chin. His smile never left his lips as I hastily wiped myself down.

"Harriet, do try and be more careful." My Mum, scolding me _again_. I had warned Matthew about this, and to my slight relief he seeemed to be finding it more amusing than weird.

"So, Matthew..." My Dad said, and my fork slipped in my fingers as the words I'd been dreading to hear left my Dad's lips. I quickly glanced an apology at Matthew in advance to the questioning that was sure to follow.

"Where-abouts do you live?" _Good, start with something easy, something he can answer without feeling too..._ wait a minute. I'd told my Dad that exact same information no less than two hours ago.

"In _, I walked here earlier and it only took me about twenty minutes, so not too far away." Matthew said, managing to answer in a lot more detail than he had to, considering the question my Dad had asked. I sighed with relief; this meant that my Dad wouldn't have to ask so many questions, and it would also give an excellent impression. My parents hated what they called 'one word people', who only did and said _exactly_ what they were told, without elaborating in any way. My Matthew was _not_ one of those people.

"Good, good..." My Dad murmured, in the sort of voice you'd expect a police officer to use when writing down details in an interrogation. "Your parents together?"

I gasped at the bluntness of his question, my potato slipping off my fork. Matthew gave me an 'it's okay' look, and I resorted to picking my potato back up again, perhaphs stabbing a little _too_ hard as I imagined my Dad's face on the fluffy yellow vegetable.

"Um, no. My Dad moved to _ two years ago, haven't seen him since." Matthew answered without an ounce of offense on his face or in his voice. And he was managing to somehow eat perfectly at the same time. Seriously, he's an angel...

"I see..." My Dad sounded disapproving, and I wanted to slap him. "Brothers or sisters?"

"Yes, an older brother, called Paul. He and I don't get on too well, though."

"Money trouble?" My Dad didn't seem to care about the extra information Matthew had added on the end of his answer.

"Not that I know of, but-"

"Nice house?" The questions were just becoming statements with question marks at the end now, an endless quick-fire of requests for information.

"It does us well, yes-"

"You religious?"

"Um..." Matthew looked at me, not expecting that one. My Matthew's 'religion status' was not something to be explained in one sentence. I bit my lip, thinking for a second, but in the end I just shook my head. Answering 'no' would be the easiest way out of a long explanation.

"Well?"

"Um... No?" Matthew said it like he was answering a question at school, unsure of whether or not he'd got the right answer.

"Hm." My Dad looked down at his plate, pushing his peas around before spearing one on the end of his fork and lifting it up to his face to inspect it. It looked ridiculous, and Matthew and

I were finding it hard not to laugh, especially when we made eye contact. My Mum and brother just sat and ate in silence, aware of the power that my Dad held during family meals.

Usually I would do the same, but having Matthew there made it different, made me feel like I could break some of the unwritten rules our family had without bearing too much of a punishment.

"So, does he have your approval, Dad?" I said, trying my hardest to keep a straight face. Matthew hid his smile behind his glass as he pretended to take a sip of his drink. My Dad looked at me as if mutiny had broken out, but he didn't dare shout at me with Matthew in the house. I knew I'd pay for such cheekiness later, but right now, with Matthew, I felt invincible. (No pun intended ;P)

"I'll decide that in a minute." My Dad said through gritted teeth, keeping his voice low so only I could hear. Well, that was the idea, anyway. The kitchen was so quiet that I'm sure even my Mum heard, from the other end of the table.

"You go to the same school as my daughter?" My Dad continued his questioning.

"Yes." Matthew said, now having regained his composure. It was at times like these that I wished I had his ability to switch between hysterical laughter and deadly seriousness in a few seconds- my smile was still firmly on my face, and I couldn't get rid of it.

"And what do you do there?"

"Um..." He glanced at me, but I had no idea. He took a guess. "Well, the subjects I take are English, Maths, Drama-"

"No. You two." Dad indicated me. "You two don't get up to any funny business at school, do you?"

I spat my mouthful of orange squash back into my glass, but not with laughter. "Dad!" I could feel the flush creeping into my cheeks again.

"It's a perfectly reasonable question, and one I have a right to ask, especially at your age." He replied, indicating the age gap of a year between Matthew and I.

"I can assure you I won't hurt your daughter, sir, and anything she doesn't want me to do, I won't do it. You have my word." Matthew sounded sincere, but the language he used seemed to have come straight out of a film from the eighties or something ridiculous. I tried not to smile at the old-fashioned-ness of it, or at the fact that Matthew sounded incredibly hot when he spoke like that...

My Dad seemed to accept it, especially the part where Matthew had called him 'sir'. I think Matthew had probably said it just for that sole purpose.

"Very good. You-" He paused, maybe to think of something that he hadn't yet asked my boyfriend. Apparently there was nothing. "You may be excused, if you want." He looked slightly defeated, but satisfied. I was extremely glad.

Both mine and Matthew's plates were now empty, so we scraped our chairs back and stood up, Matthew nodding respectfully to both my parents as I collected both our plates and took them round to the dishwasher.

Once we were both in the hallway, Matthew closed the door and leaned back against the wall, grinning from ear to ear. He ran his hands over his face. "God, that was... gruelling. Seriously Harriet, do your family live in the nineteenth century or something?"

I laughed. "No, that's just my Dad. God, I'm glad he likes you..."

"I think that's an over-statement."

"You were very polite..."

"In my head I sounded like a complete idiot, but I suppose your Dad approved."

"You didn't sound like an idiot, you never do."

"You're just saying that." He adjusted his position on the wall, looking pleased at my compliment but slightly embarrassed all the same. I loved how shy he was, even around the people he knew the best.

"I'm not. Seriously..." I came very close to telling him just how sexy he'd sounded and looked throughout that whole meal, but I chickened out at the last second.

"Seriously what?" He looked confused as I battled for words to cover up my mistake.

"Nothing. I love you, Matthew..." I smiled at him, captured by his perfect blue eyes.

"I love you too." The gorgeous blue orbs grew closer and closer until they were covered by his delicate eyelids as our lips touched.

Matthew and I had been going out for around three or four weeks before that point, so it's fair to say that our kissing had grown to become quite... intimate. So it was a bit of a shock when Matthew managed to time the movement of his tongue over my lips to the moment my Dad opened the door.

We quickly broke apart and stuttered a bit over his furious gaze, but then Matthew grabbed my hand and pulled me up the stairs after him. We raced up to my bedroom, away from my Dad, and it was only about 45 seconds before our lips touched again.


End file.
